


Cut Me Loose

by coverofnight



Series: Break Me Down [1]
Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-01 00:50:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12144954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coverofnight/pseuds/coverofnight
Summary: Vera's a new woman, but Joan can't let go of old feelings.





	1. One

I am not ready for tonight.

Tonight, for the first time in weeks, she allows me to see her sans uniform. Sans reserve. Sans restraint. Tonight, as we jerk off the board with cocktails and speeches, she dances naked among wolves. Her shoulders bare strength; her smile reveals unencumbered happiness. There once was a time when that smile flashed in my direction—across a dinner table, over tense sips of red wine, under clinging, sweaty sheets.

Now she walks among us all as a woman of great fortitude. A woman full of the confidence I, and I alone, bestowed upon her. And yet, I am no longer worthy of the quick, parting glance she might have given me across a crowded room when we were lovers. 

I sit tight-lipped and seething as she falls into the arms of Will Jackson. His thick fingers grip her hips where mine once did and his friendly eyes smile into hers.

_That fucker._

I want to wrap my fingers around his neck and squeeze the last bit of life from his lungs.

They dance a passionless dance, one that shows the world this coupling is nothing more than mere friendship. Or is it? One can't be so sure now that Vera’s found the strength to leave me. Would she have permitted me to dance with her before our falling out?

_I'll never know._

Soon, Channing steps in, asking for Vera’s hand in this sadistic dance. I am almost sure she's designed it this way to taunt me. She wants to show me who's in control. She wants to be the one to get the last laugh.

 _But, no._ My Vera isn't capable of such callousness. My Vera is sweet, kind. She kissed my forehead and caressed my cheek; she held my hand when I didn't think anyone would dare. My Vera is not cold and unfeeling. Somewhere, in the deepest chambers of her heart, my Vera still has love for me.

Beneath a still and perfect mask, I quietly wretch at the sight on the dance floor.

To my left, Ms. Miles holds polite conversation with Mr. Fletcher. They smile and laugh and remark at how well their colleagues clean up. None so well as my dear Vera. Her hair flows over slim shoulders and the slit of her black dress shows enough leg to entice. Vera has entranced us all tonight. Ms. Miles contemplates aloud the man with which Vera might return home. Mr. Fletcher shakes his head no. He still fumbles over his words. _He should be dead._ At least he acknowledges and respects the integrity of my deputy governor.

My officers ignore me as they continue their conversation. They know by now that I am not built for useless gibberish such as this. But tonight, I wish for a moment that I was. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from Vera; I can no longer fight the cyclone of emotion whirling inside me.

I grip the table in front of me and claw jagged fingernails into my napkin.

Then, from Channing’s grimy arms, she cocks her head in my direction. Her eyes flash recognition and she winks.

I resist the urge to throw something.

I am certain now that she knows how much it hurts to watch her work the room, to see her move between bodies that have never desired her, to see her touch the ones I know could never be worthy of her love. Then again, I am no longer one of these either. I lost her confidence weeks ago when I saw the light leave her eyes and fear threatening to pull her away from me. One violent outburst and all was finished. She stopped having faith in me then.

With my lips and my fingers, with my words and my sighs, I tried to make it right again. With my heart in my hands, I did the unthinkable: I knelt before her and begged forgiveness. Ultimately, I failed her.

Anger breeds heat and fire within me. I feel a tear form at the corner of my eye.

Before I can fully compose myself, she's making a beeline for my table. Her eyes seem to fall on me as she approaches and something like hope fills my chest. _Will she talk to me tonight?_

She marches past me to stand between Miles and Fletcher. Her hand rests gently on his shoulder. Rage lights a fire in my belly. She leans over to speak to him.

“Don't worry if you're not up to it. I'm fine,” I hear her say. Like me, he wants a moment with her but can't find the strength to stand. My paranoia has temporarily paralyzed him. Heartbreak paralyzes me. Until…

Until she looks at me over Miles’s head with a glint in her eye. My ears prick up and the hair at the back of my neck stands on end.

“Ladies’ room. Be right back,” she says to no one in particular. And then she struts off into the distance. I watch her slip through the exit before I take my leave.

The restroom is just down the hall. All is clear; no one in sight. I push the door open to find Vera leaning against the wall and looking at me expectantly.

“I knew you'd come,” she says. Her voice is soft, inviting. I feel my ear twitch at the sound.

_God, it's good to be this close._

I take a step closer and she lets a strap from her dress fall off her shoulder. My feet stop moving.

“You want to fuck me, don't you?” Her voice deepens and I quiver. I restrain myself from letting my mouth fall open. I simply nod.

“Like everyone else.”

 _No_ , I want to tell her. _Not like everyone else._

“How long has it been now?” she asks, but her sly smile indicates that she knows all too well.

_Six weeks._

She makes a move to approach me, her breasts bouncing in time with her step. I lick my lips.

My Vera leans in close and caresses me with the length of her body. I audibly swoon. She lifts a hand and lets her knuckle trace the line of my belly. I can feel my legs giving way.

_She makes me so damn weak._

Vera takes my hand and leads me to the line of sinks to my right. Just before she props herself up onto the counter, her eyes widen and mischief washes clean over her face. She spreads her legs just for me.

“Now's your chance,” she whispers.

I take her in my arms and kiss her with every bit of feeling I've pent up over the last six weeks. She parts my lips with her tongue and slips her fingers between mine. Suddenly, I can’t breathe. Suddenly, I am small. She could devour me right now and I wouldn’t regret giving her everything.

Her kisses grow deeper, hungrier, more desperate with each passing moment. She and I both know we’ve only got a few minutes to ourselves.

I lean in close to whisper in her ear. “You ready?” I say. My lips graze her lobe.

“For you?” she gasps as I trail my fingers along her thigh. “Always.” She takes my hand full force and guides it between her legs.

My legs nearly crumble beneath me when I slip my hand into her panties and feel her warmth on my fingers. I start slow. I tease, draw her pleasure out. She tugs on the collar of my blouse.

“Deeper,” she whispers. And I listen. She’s wet enough to engulf two of my fingers. Then, three. I press my palm over her clit and my Vera trembles in my arms. She throws her head back and revels in the pleasure I give her. My lips trail her neck as she arches into my touch. I'm aching to taste her. _If only we had more time._

As she gasps and moans and clings to me, the restroom door flings wide open. My fingers immediately stop pumping inside her. Her moans turn to silence.

Westfall is frozen at the sight of us. Her normally skeptical eyes now read shock. “I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry,” she stammers. She’s gone as quickly as she came.

Vera and I both breathe easy momentarily before I bring a fist down to the counter. “God damn it!” The harshness of my own voice startles me. I hadn't fully realized how much I’d wanted this. Vera brings a gentle hand to my face.

“It’s alright.” She’s always done her best to calm me. Her fingers run softly over my temple, then behind my ear and over my jawline.

I let my head fall forward and rest gently on her shoulder. “I miss you, Vera.” The words pass my lips more softly than I intend. I just want her close to me.

She thumbs over my jawline, then cradles me for a moment. “I know,” she whispers. “But you have to cut me loose.” She frees me of her grip and hops off the counter. “Come on, let’s clean up.”

In the mirror, she adjusts the straps of her dress and shimmies her skirt back into its place. And just like that, I am dismissed. Vera, now more concerned about the state of her hair than my hurt feelings, smiles at me over the sink. “I’ll see you out there,” she offers.

For the second time this year, Vera turns her back on me. Still besotted by the memory of her warmth on my fingers, I follow her back to the room where our colleagues drink and mingle. There, she disappears so easily into the crowd that I lose sight of her.

No one notices I've returned. So, I leave in the very same manner in which I entered the room: alone, defeated.

No sooner than I reach the outdoors does all my power leave my body. My chest feels as if it might cave, as if I'm being buried beneath the weight of my sins. My brief union with Vera has weakened me. She is poison to my willpower, a dagger straight to my gut, the gatekeeper of my tears.

Once safely inside my vehicle, I follow Vera’s instruction and cut it all loose. The steering wheel sweats beneath my grip. The windshield fogs over as I let air escape my lungs in the most bloodcurdling scream I can muster.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I did not anticipate receiving such positive and thoughtful feedback on this piece so thank you to everyone who commented on the first chapter. 
> 
> Secondly, I hadn't planned to write a second chapter but given the feedback and the realization that, perhaps, I needed to clarify some points in the story (as per The Saint's comment), I thought I would write something up. I hope it's enjoyable.

I scream until my lungs give out, but it does nothing to stop the gaping hole I feel pummeling through my chest. Most people can't imagine a loss so profound as this. And none of them can imagine experiencing it more than once.

_Tonight makes three._

Those of us chosen to endure life's losses do what we can to survive. Some fall victim to worldly temptations—a drink here, a painkiller there, perhaps a one night stand or two. Then there are those of us who simply plow through the unbearable ache of merely existing. We move without thinking, think without feeling, and close our eyes at night knowing we'll have to do it all over again. Our pains, our traumas become part of the routine.

Vera was a welcome reprieve from mine. She opened me up to a happiness I hadn't ever known. No woman, not even my Jianna, touched me the way Vera had. Vera fit me like a well-tailored suit, one I could wear proud and strong on any given occasion. With her, I could be soft, vulnerable. With me, she learned the power of her body and finally had reason to hold her head high. I touched her, desired her, made love to her. I'd ask her to stand before me in all her naked glory so I could marvel at the woman whose body and soul belonged to me. I'd lay her down in bed, hold her close, and trail eager lips over every inch of her soft skin.

_I worshipped her._

A dizzying flash of memories floods my mind. Smiling blue eyes. A delicate hand on my thigh. A finger linked into the loop of my belt. 

My hands grip the steering wheel even tighter. Again, my lungs fill to capacity with sorrow. I look down at my heaving chest. It rises and falls in a desperate attempt to calm the anxiety building within. In my faulty mind’s eye, Vera rests her head upon my breast. Before I can fully register it, the sweet image disintegrates before me. I am worthless, pointless, deserving of nothing more than disdain. Panic rises from my chest; pins and needles swarm my cheeks; my vision blurs behind tears. So, I close my eyes and try to expel Vera from my memory.

_If I felt like making a scene, I could salvage this whole thing._

There is nothing but self-respect keeping me from running to her right now. I must find the will to face them all in uniform tomorrow morning. Westfall, no doubt, will want to have a word. And Vera will do what she always does: nod respectfully and ask if there’s any news to report. With any luck, I'll be able to say no and move on with my day.

_Like tonight never happened._

By and large, my world is built on pillars of sand. They hold firm for only a short time before collapsing beneath the weight of salt water. I weep more now than I ever have, no matter how much I resist the urge. The tears come at random, mostly when I see her leave my office with nothing but indifference in her eyes for me. It doesn't have to be this way.

She once wrote me a note thanking me for our first dinner together. I keep it in my uniform’s breast pocket. If ever anyone sees me putting a hand to my chest, that saccharine note is the reason. Should I die on the job tomorrow, the authorities will find that note—signed “Lovingly, Vera”—clipped to the only photo I have of Jianna. This is the summation of my existence on this earth as a sympathetic being.

I drive home in silence, hearing only my heavy breathing and Vera’s words. _You have to cut me loose._ As if I'd somehow imprisoned her with my love. Please. I freed her; I freed myself. Perhaps it was all a mistake.

I open my front door to a sterile, lifeless home. Vera had given it color and with her by my side, I could be less preoccupied with cleanliness. I could abandon dishes to share my bed with her and leave the tub unbleached to watch her dress for me. Everything seemed simpler, less urgent when she was here to ease my worries. Although I’d never admit it, I loved having her small messes in my home. I'd find a clump of her hair in my hairbrush and smile, or an abandoned drinking glass in the bedroom and lovingly thumb over her lip prints.

 _I never told her I loved her._  

In the bathroom mirror, I stare blankly at my large naked body. When I was young, I was so sure no one could love it. In one afternoon, she changed all that. After I'd finished her off, she crawled on top of me and pinned my arms down. “I want to try. You haven't let me yet,” she whispered into my ear. She sat back up, straddling me and pressing her wet arousal into my belly. I was still shielded by the undergarments she'd gifted me some weeks before. It was her very first hint that she was open to going to bed with me.

Rushes of water wash over my tears. Fresh ones come when the mind travels back to that afternoon. She had kissed me, soothed me, given me pleasure. I let myself go in the safety of her arms.

Tonight in bed, I lie flat on my back and stare into the void. _What might tomorrow bring for us? For me and Vera?_ My hand reaches for the other side of the bed. She isn't there. Six weeks now and I can't move on from what I've done.

In a moment of quiet passion, I had pressed my hand into her throat. She pushed me away and I lost control. I raged against her, tried to force her hand. Her blue eyes grew wide and she cowered beneath me. When I released her, she slipped out of bed and away from me.

 _I put fear in her when she was at her most vulnerable. I am_ _despicable._

Loneliness beams from my chest and into the ether. Tears fall slowly over my cheeks and wet my pillow. Outside the bedroom window, creatures of the night howl at the moon. They, too, know the depth of my despair.

But tomorrow, I shall rise anew.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all once again for the lovely comments on this piece. I appreciate all of them and will be taking them to heart as I continue this fic.

On most days, stepping foot into Wentworth feels like glory has wrapped its arms around me and showered me with limitless warmth. I relish my time here; I usually dive headfirst into work. But today, long before I get to the gates of my beloved prison, I hesitate. My feet are tied up in uncertainty; my hands fondle my keys with worry.

Miles holds the gate open for me. She lets a snarled, judgmental look pass her face. “You right, Governor?” she asks. There's not a hint of concern in her voice.

I do not dignify her with a response. She reeks of last night’s alcohol and vitriolic gossip as I move past her. She is beneath me.

I make the long walk from the gates to my office in proud silence.  I shall not let last night's indiscretion deter me from my course, no matter how many prying eyes fall on me today.

Despite the animals living within, the walls of my prison are immaculate. By the time the morning shift starts, these walls are washed clean of last night's sins. They have structure and purpose. Whatever ill befalls them during the night, a proper cleanse reveals them anew in the morning.

This morning, as the beauty of my prison is reinforced, I know that nothing can penetrate my walls.

My office door is unlocked when I reach it. I open the door slowly to find my deputy governor lying in wait before my desk, hands clasped over her tiny pelvis. Her blue eyes plead up at me for a brief moment as I step around her. I cannot bear to look into them.

“Morning, Vera,” I say. My tone is cool, calculated. For the the occasion, it is entirely appropriate. It leaves nothing unsaid, nothing to be desired. I have met my professional requirement for the morning; I have been adequately cordial.

As I make myself comfortable in my chair, Vera shifts her stance.

_She wants to talk about last night._

Still, I do not look at her. I give my desk a quick wiping down before powering up my computer. “Any particular reason you're here this early, Vera?”

She scoffs and shifts her weight from one leg to the other. Her eyes roll upward, then catch themselves and look at me dead-on. “You were inside me last night and now you can't even look at me?” she says.

Her choice of words strikes me. It isn't typical for people to speak of such acts in this way. It's why we use words like _fuck_ ; they distance us from the very fact that we’ve allowed someone inside us, that we’ve allowed ourselves to be taken in by someone else.

I rub my thumb against my middle and ring fingers underneath my desk. Just ten hours ago, these fingers were enveloped in her warmth. The thought strikes a pleasing jolt between my legs.

Now, I draw in a deep breath and muster the courage to glance in her direction. The indifference has left her eyes; this is a different Vera than I've seen in some time. I choke back my emotions. “What are you on about, Ms. Bennett?”

“Bridget has questions. She's put in a request to meet with us this afternoon. I suspect she wants to apologize,” Vera explains.

“Tell her there's no need.” I wave my hand aimlessly as I say this, then I put it over my breast pocket. She knows nothing of the love and hope that resides beneath this carefully placed hand.

“I'm not sure I can do that, Governor. We can't deny her a meeting request, can we?”

“She's _your_ friend. You can answer her questions on your own time.” I let out an angered, irritated breath. “Now, if there's nothing else, I'd like to get to work.”

Vera furrows her brow. Her eyes search me for something more than I care to give and it reminds me of our early days together. That was before she understood my capacity to love and my rare, quiet need to nurture.

“Did last night really mean nothing to you?” she says this as if I hadn't practically begged her to stay.

“About as much as it meant to you, it seems.” The words escape my mouth less matter-of-factly than I want them to.

 _But it's still a lie._  

Vera blinks and her eyes go blank. “What does that mean?”

“You let everyone have a piece of you last night,” I explain. I realize a second too late how jealous and possessive I must sound.

_I am, though, aren't I?_

“I was trying to get your attention,” Vera says quietly. Finally, she admits it.

“But you turned your back on me.” I do all I can to keep my expression still, emotionless. “You left.”

“Because Bridget walked in on us! What was I supposed to do?”

_Stay. Come home with me. Anything but leave._

“I don't know, Vera. What was last night to you anyway? You haven't looked at me—truly looked at me—for weeks.” I can't help but express the depth of my torment now. How disgusting that I should fall so low as I preside over my queendom.

_The walls of my prison are immaculate, impenetrable._

“And then you told me to cut you loose.” My voice frees these words in a quiet, insecure manner. I pinch myself, scrape my own nails into my skin, tap my foot impatiently. Her eyes wander away from me.

 _Already, her mind is running far from here_.

There is nothing more painful than having someone's love in your grasp and letting it slip away. Finally, I raise my eyes to fully meet her gaze. Guilt washes clean across her face. She's fighting what she feels beneath the mask I've taught her to wear.

Again, I choke back my feelings. “You wanted to hurt me.”

“The way you hurt me!” she barks back. And this time, I know for certain that I have done the unthinkable. I _have_ hurt her. Really and truly. Emotionally. Sexually. Psychologically.

_And now she has done the same._

I sit very still in my chair, passing my hand clean over my desk and looking deep into this woman I've loved for so long. Despite my stillness, I feel my body wanting to swallow me whole. I would rather fling myself from this desk and out the office window than listen to Vera tell me how much I have hurt her.

_How many more times can I do this?_

As I run through last night's bittersweet memories, I consider whether I haven't got it all wrong. Perhaps last night's outburst of emotion was for naught.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for the lovely and encouraging comments. Hope you enjoy this new chapter. :)

Vera cannot stay long enough for me to respond. Just as I open my mouth to offer what words of comfort reside within me, Mr. Jackson's voice comes in over Vera’s radio and interrupts my train of thought.

Vera looks at me in anticipation, her blue eyes asking me a question for which I haven't an answer. She knows me well enough to know I can't leave things like this, but I simply release a deep breath and raise my eyebrows at her.

“You’d better address that call. Mr. Jackson is waiting,” I hear myself say. I regret it almost as soon as it leaves my mouth.

“Yes, Governor.” Vera solemnly bows her head. It's the kind of pointed deference that, to me, looks and feels like utter disappointment. She turns swiftly on her heel and fades rather quickly from my field of view.

An invisible dead weight rests at the nape of my neck. It spreads down my spine, around my ribs, and deep into my chest. I square my shoulders to better accommodate it, but even so, I can't help feeling that I've let Vera down.

But wasn't it she who connived and concocted to hurt me? Wasn't it she who manipulated me, seduced me into physical and emotional submission?

_ Yes, it was. _

So, why then am I the one left feeling as though I’ve failed?  

I contemplate this question for some minutes before a tired ache in my jaw lets me know I've been clenching my teeth. I release them from anger’s grip. My fists unfold beneath my desk in unison.

_ I shall rise anew. _

Calm overcomes me. My mind quiets itself. Finally, I can be certain that the morning's tension has passed. Nothing more can stir the waters within.

But then a hurried whisper from the hall catches my ear. Vera must have forgotten to shut both doors. Slowly, I lift myself from my seat to investigate the situation.

A keenly trained eye spots Westfall. And next to her? My Vera who nestles her compact body into a corner as the sapphic psychologist looms over her. Westfall, who steals wistful glances from prisoners and takes full advantage of her power, has my Vera locked down. _ Locked down. _ After all the effort I made to liberate her, it seems Vera has succumbed to the wiles of another woman.

I stand watch over them as they whisper. Vera places a soft hand on Westfall’s arm. Westfall cocks her head sympathetically. They smile, gaze into each other's eyes. If I weren't absolutely certain of Westfall’s inappropriate  dealings with Doyle, I might conclude that the unlikely pair before me were a devoted item.

Disturbing images flood the brain. Their kisses. Their lovemaking. Their domestic bliss. I can see so clearly how a union between these women might look. It's tender, sweet, and wholly different than what I had with Vera.

I allow my heart to break a little while I still remain unseen. That gaping hole in my chest is pummeled anew. It aches so much that I feel my knees buckle.

_ I must stand strong. _

Then Vera’s eyes lock with mine and she squirms away from Westfall. She wants me to remain oblivious to her secret crush.

_ She still cares for me. _

Suddenly, I feel I can confront the ugliness before me.

“Ms. Westfall?” I say. This will all be done with soon enough.

Westfall turns to me dramatically and puts on her best corporate smile. “Good morning, Governor.”

I cannot find it in me to return her silly pleasantries. “Ms. Bennett tells me you would like a word. Do you have a moment now?”

Westfall looks for reassurance in Vera whose eyes still convey shock at my sudden appearance. She merely nods and gently squeezes Westfall's elbow.

“Of course, Governor,” she says. Her tone lacks conviction. She isn't sure what she'll encounter in my quarters.  

As Westfall begins to walk ahead of me to my office, I look to Vera who hangs back like a little girl awaiting a parent's approval.  _ Mine or Westfall's? _

The answer comes from Westfall. “Vera?” She calls out the name in a soft, soothing way and Vera’s body melts into it and follows her along. I trail them across the hall and into my office, watch them sit in time to each other, and feel jealousy spread like fire in my belly.

I take my chair, sitting as erect as I possibly can. I must show strength. I must show stature.

_ Bravado isn't only for men. _

I take a deep breath. “Now, what questions might we address during this meeting, Ms.Westfall?”

Her face immediately goes red with embarrassment and it occurs to me for the first time that I, too, should feel embarrassed. I don't. What I feel is...irrelevant in this moment. But I do know this: I refuse to be shamed for expressing my love and desire for Vera.

“I wanted to apologize for barging in last night,” Westfall says timidly.

“That isn't necessary,” I offer.

“I also wanted to ask whether it was consensual. Vera assures me that it was but given your elevated professional status and aggressive personality, it's my duty as Vera’s colleague and friend to know.”

My mouth falls open. My eyes go dead. Mind blank. Heart racing. How dare this grating and stupid woman accuse me of forcing myself on my darling Vera.

Vera nods in my direction, silently pleading for me to keep my temper in its place.

I will myself to remain calm. “You're out of bounds, Ms. Westfall.”

“Actually,  I don't think I am, Governor. Vera’s told me what you did to her all those weeks ago.”

My Vera’s eyes, once loyal and doting, now seem fearful. As if I might hurl all my suppressed anger in her direction.

_ She's told her everything. _

“Ms. Westfall, whatever transpired between Ms. Bennett and myself is of no consequence to you. She and I have handled it—are handling it. There's nothing more for you to do here,” I explain. And then my eyes fall on Vera. “Unless you, Ms. Bennett, have something more you'd like to add?”

Vera lowers her eyes and shakes her head no. “No, Governor.” Her voice seems small, her body looks even smaller. Despite everything, I want to take her in my arms and tell her that it's alright.

_ But it isn't. She has betrayed me. _

I peel my eyes away from Vera to address Westfall. “Thank you, Ms. Westfall. That's all.”

Westfall rises and places a comforting hand on Vera’s shoulder. “I'm here if you need me, Vera.”

Vera nods quietly.

“You and I are done as well, Ms. Bennett.” The words are harsh leaving my mouth. Vera’s eyes water as she motions to leave.

“I'm sorry, Joan,” she whispers.

I simply turn my head from her, as if she were never there. 


	5. Five

The day passes without further incident. All turbulence has been calmed, all noise quieted. I close my eyes. The night's breeze manages to make its way into my office and with it arrives a vision of my beloved Vera. She smiles at me serenely and saunters over to my chair to straddle me under the lowlight of my desk lamp. My hands caress her slim, taut thighs. These hands could crush her with the minutest exertion of strength.

_Love is not using the power I know I have._

She rolls her hips into mine, sighs loudly, and hovers over me to lick my ear lobe.

“God,” I say aloud.

“You want to fuck me, don't you?” Her voice is husky, deep. I quiver and restrain myself from letting my mouth fall open. I simply nod.

“Like everyone else. Like Bridget.”

“No!” My voice cries before I can register that my eyes are too. I open them to find that Vera is nowhere to be found. My chest heaves. My heart booms. Desire consumes me.

I sit quietly in my office debating whether I should tend to the tingling wetness between my legs.

_Not at work. Never here._

Self-control is far from me. I think of Jodie Spiteri whose build reminds me so much of Vera’s, whose eagerness to please made me come in violent and unabashed ways.

_That’s all behind me now._

I am reformed. I have been reborn. Vera has shown me the light.

Still, I can't help but take one last lap around my immaculately kept prison. Women retreat to their individual cells when they see me. Some nod. Others grit their teeth.

Only one extends a nicety my way.

“Working late, eh?” Anderson rubs her large, round belly and inches closer to the bars between us.  She gives me a smile. I am not sure what I might've done to deserve this.

“Yes,” I answer in a whisper. “New mattress working out well for you?”

“Yeah. Thank you, again,” she says. Her eyes are wide, grateful. She, unlike Vera, sees me for who and what I am. I have shown her fully all I am capable of and she readily accepts that fact.

_Vera will never be ready._

Anderson’s hair is frayed at the edges. I have to stop myself from reaching through the bars to smooth it.

“Well, off to bed. Don't let that little one keep you up, hm.”

She parts from me slowly and I watch her, all the while imagining that she is my Jianna.

_My Jianna._

Never once did she betray me, my body, or our privacy. And I trust that Anderson is of the same level of integrity.  Why is Vera so incapable? Furthermore, why am I incapable of letting her go?

My hand lingers on the cold bars as I watch Anderson close her cell door. For a second, I have hope that she'll nod in my direction one last time: one last acknowledgement of the special bond that's formed between us.

But she does not.

A vague sense of loss washes through my body. My heart is full of the women of my past, the ones who opened themselves up to my strange and violent love. Jianna was the ideal. And my Vera was a fulfilment of that ideal stopped short by ethics, morals, humanity, heart. The ones in between were pastimes, hobbies. They quenched my thirst, satisfied my cravings, tided me over until I found Vera.

I suspect that Anderson is one of these.

_This infatuation, too, shall pass._

I return to my office in a haze of sadness. And there, my Vera waits for me. She's really and truly there. Her eyes plead with me to accept her presence here. But I look away.

_She mustn't know I've been waiting._

“Joan,” she says softly as I take my seat.

The tension in my body softens at the sound of her voice. In the past, there was never a better indication that the day’s work was done than when she called me by my name. I almost can't fathom the effect she has on me.

_And here I thought I was the one with all the power._

She doesn't use it. Instead, she bows her head and allows me to take the lead.

I cross my legs and clasp my hands over a bended knee. “What can I do for you, Vera?”

Vera says nothing. Her voice seems to be trapped inside her mouth. Tears form at the corners of her eyes and her bottom lip quivers.

I watch on and wait for an apology or a pathetic display of groveling. Whichever comes first. A mere moment passes before I understand the depth of Vera’s grief. Her features possess a sadness I could not have predicted.

_She thinks she’s lost me for good._

If only she knew how I longed to hold her. If only my ego would free me from its shackles.

Quite suddenly, I feel myself rise and walk toward her. My right hand reaches up to wipe tears from her cheek, and my left runs smooth around her back. “It’s alright,” I whisper. I lean in close, allowing my lips to graze her cheek. Fresh tears fall and wet my lips.

I shower her face with kisses and thumb over new tears. She closes her eyes and calms herself in my arms.

“I'm so sorry, Joan.” Her voice is weak, uncertain.

“We'll work it all out.”

“I still need you," she says quietly. "I still want you.” Sadness turns to seduction, and somehow it feels like we're back at square one.

I feel her fingers fumbling over the buttons of my uniform blouse.

_Not at work. Never here._

She caresses my breast beneath my shirt, toys with my nipple, presses her body against mine. _How can I possibly resist her?_ She guides me into the kitchenette on the other side of the office where she forces my button down and tie off of me. Only my bra remains and that, too, is stripped from me before I even know what to do with my hands.

My Vera takes my breast into her mouth. She licks, tugs, sucks. She knows all too well how much I enjoy having her suckle at my breast. In times past, I have cradled her in my arms, caressed her hair, slipped my hand between her legs—all while she latches on for the duration.

My clit is swollen and wet with desire. I want to climax for her, show her how moved I am by this gesture. But alas, we've only gotten started.

As she tends to my breast, I take it upon myself to release her hair from its bun. I graze my nails against her scalp and run my fingers through the length of her hair.

_I need to taste her._

My hands cup her face and lift it so that our eyes meet. Her blues eyes widen at the dark desire in mine. Our lips crash into each other. Her tongue slips into my mouth in a soft and sensual display of desire.

Eager hands claw at my waist to disband my belt and slacks. Vera does so more deftly than I sometimes can and plunges her fingers between my legs. Soft luscious lips part from mine and a high pitched sigh escapes her mouth when she feels my arousal.

“Are you ready for me?” she whispers.

_How I love for her to be inside me._

I simply give her a nod.

In all our time together, Vera has penetrated me in every possible way. Sexually, psychological, emotionally. I never want it to end. I want to open myself up and let her spread her love deep inside me.  

Her fingers apply more pressure; my mouth ejects a low growl.

“My God, Vera. I have missed this,” I purr into her ear. She thrusts her hand one more time, causing a small quake between my legs.  

“Get up against the wall.” Vera’s voice is now strong, commanding and it weakens me even more. Warm fluids flow freely from me and over her fingers. I cannot hold on much longer.

She works me, teases me, loves me with all the fiery energy she's got. Her fingers stroke and caress and plunge and fuck until I come completely undone.

I arch my back and cry out with reckless abandon. Vera rests her head upon my bare breasts. Her face is clammy against my skin and as I come, I hold her close.

“Oh, Vera,” is all I can manage to say between gasping, raspy breaths. I shiver in pleasure.

“Do you forgive me?” she asks quietly. Even as she lingers inside me, she's still uncertain of her place.

“When are you coming home?” I hold back tears as I say this. We both know she's already there _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I wanted to say thank you for reading this fic and for all your lovely, insightful comments.


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